Birdy Flew Over the Alchemist's Nest
by Heuvel
Summary: A young aviator meets Amestris-a militant country that has never experienced man-made flight-and a young alchemist. What will fly? Absolutely everything. Edward/OC. Post-Brotherhood Anime.
1. Chapter One

She liked the sea best in the morning, when the orange of the rising sun blended into the bright blue of the water. Sea gusts and droplets fell around her as a wave hit the side of the dock where she was standing, but she didn't mind. Her bright green eyes flitted around as some of the boats from other docks started sailing out for fishing, their bright white fabric making the color scheme all the more beautiful. She sighed as she took a sip of her coffee—straight, no milk or sugar.

"Birdy, your plane is ready." Came a voice behind her.

Birdy turned around and smiled down at her mechanic. He had bushy black hair that always would get stuck in the engine gears and he wore glasses that looked like the headlights of her plane. His name was Hanriot.

"Thanks." Birdy said kindly as she turned from the sea before her. Today, she'd be flying inland towards Amestris and surrounding countries. She'd be away from the sea for a while.

Birdy flew a military fighter plane that her father flew just before his death. Hanriot had tried many times to convince her to upgrade, he could build her a better and faster plane, but she always refused. She liked her own plane. It had been painted black and had a large rectangle wing through the top and a smaller wing at the bottom that she used to walk on when getting to her seat; her second home. The original wheels had been replaced by Hanriot, after a long argument between the two of them on whether or not to keep the originals. But after Birdy flew the damned thing into the ocean because the wheels had fallen off, she relented. But only for the wheels.

The paint job, she retouched herself. The plane was black so that it blended into the blackness or night, despite the fact that it rumbled louder than an ocean storm when it flew overhead. On one side of the underwing, her father had painted a yellow canary, the family bird, and one the other side, the Costero Military Crest; two seagulls intertwined on the backdrop of a red shell. There were other details, stripes at the lowerwing and rudder, and a small painted cateye on the backfin. Her plane was her second home; she had even conditioned herself to be able to sleep in the cockpit.

"So I've stored a couple days of fuel, but I'm not sure if it'll take you all the way to Amestris…" Hanriot rambled while looking at his notebook. Birdy walked beside him dutifully, but with an amused smile across her face. Her red hair was loose, so she reached up and pulled it into a ponytail absently while Hanriot continued, "You have two machine guns connected to the lowerwing. Are you sure you want them?"

"Certainly." Birdy said while they approached her own bird. It was named Canary, after her family. "You never know what will happen."

"Well…The people of Xing are pretty nice, I don't think they'd try to shoot you down. And then you have the desert..then Amestris…I can't think of a time you'll need them."

"The country of Amestris is currently in a power struggle with Creta and a small providence named Ishval." Birdy said sternly as she went over to where her jumpsuit was laying, "They're a confrontational country. I need confrontational ammunition."

"If you think so." Hanriot said with concern.

Birdy pulled on the brown jumptsuit and started buttoning it up. She wore boots that went up to her knees so that the gears in the cockpit wouldn't burn her legs; that had happened a lot while she wore simple shoes. She pushed the sleeves of the suit up to her elbows, but she knew when she got in, she'd have to pull them down to avoid wind rash.

"You'll write?" Hanriot asked.

"Doubt it, Hanny." Birdy said kindly, "I'll be the first Costeroian to ever touch Amestrian land. I doubt someone will travel a letter back here for me."

"Sure." Hanriot deflated.

Birdy smiled at him before putting her helmet over her head and reaching down to grab her duffle back. It had been her father's, and it was still covered in patches from other countries around the oceans that he got when he went off to war. She smiled at it before tossing it into the cockpit.

"And food—"

"It's estimated to be a two day flights, Han—"

"Estimated from what?" Hanriot suddenly put in, "Estimated from your calculations, which, I'll add, could be wrong. No one has ever walked, let alone flown, to Amestris. Anything could happen. A storm, for example. The storms on inland soil are a lot different from seaside storms, you know."

"Thanks, Hanriot." Birdy suddenly cut in, looking at him and smiling. The freckles on her nose could be seen from the tan of the sun, and her green eyes were sparkling. She looked happy. "But risks are an occupational hazard."

Hanriot nodded slowly and he fiddled with his wrench. He glanced up only when he heard a crunching on the grass. A large man in a black uniform and a few subordinates were walking to the Canary, smiling.

"General Macchi!" Birdy chirped before saluting.

Macchi smiled and saluted back, his large mustache hiding most of it. He had red hair like Birdy, only duller with age, but his eyes were brown. "Birdy, are you ready for your flight?"

"Yes, sir. I'm just finishing packing. Hanriot has done a lot of small touches as well. It's as good as new, The Canary."

"Fantastic." Macchi said, "I have something for you."

"Sir?" Birdy asked as Macchi held out his hand to one of the subordinates. He was given a small velvet box, black, the color of the uniform. He smiled and went over to Birdy and held out the box personally.

Hanriot shuffled his feet and walked over to stand by Birdy as she opened it. She was presented with a pin, of the crest with the seagulls and the red shell. "Oh…" Birdy breathed, "It's so pretty…"

"It's the pin we give heros." General Macchi said sternly, "And we present that to you."

Hanriot looked the most shocked out of all of them. His glasses were askew and his face was red. Birdy had a huge smile upon her face, and without thinking about it much, she launched herself forward and gave General Macchi a hug. Macchi laughed and hugged her back while his subordinates made uncomfortable faces and looked to each other awkwardly.

"I wont let you down." Birdy said in the hug.

"I know." Macchi said as he let her go, and Birdy took a few steps back to smile at them all. But Macchi continued while reaching into his jacket, "And I have this for you. A letter of introduction to Maes Hughes, he's the old friend of mine that I met when I travelled to Ishval. He'll be very kind to you."

"Thank you." Birdy said while taking the letter and stuffing it unceremoniously into her pocket. She turned to walk back to her Canary, pinning the Costero pin to her inner shirt.

She was sitting on her lower wing when Hanriot walked over. He smiled at her awkwardly and shuffled his feet before saying, "If the engine starts making that clicky noise, you'll just need to oil it. It's in the compartment by the fin."

"Sure, Hanny." Birdy said gently as she let her hands drop from the pin, "Thank you."

"It's my job." Hanriot said quickly.

"I meant for being there." Birdy said with a laugh, "For being such a good friend. I'll miss you the most."

Hanriot blushed and smiled up at her before saying, "I'll miss you more." He blushed even more when Birdy leaned down to lay a gentle kiss on his forehead before she leaned away and hopped into the cockpit.

She looked over to General Macchi and saluted. Macchi saluted back and said out loud, in a loud voice, "Let this be known, that on this fair summer's day of 1919, Birdy Avro of the country of Costero flew from the Southern Beach to Amestris in the first international flight."

Birdy flushed and smiled before settling herself in her cockpit. She reached up and pulled the goggles of her helmet down over her eyes and gave Hanriot thumbs up. The mechanic backed away from the plane as Birdy revved it alive, and she started to push forward. She went all the way out to the sand before she turned the plane around and went onto the small gravel runway. It took a few moments for her to have the right time to thrust, but she did and in a moment, she was in the air, flying west.

She flew all the way through the day. She had to cross over a large body of water before she reached Xing, so it was relatively peaceful. She smiled the whole time simply because it reminded her of flying over the ocean. It was quiet, the water splashed up against the plane gently, and the loud hum of the engine gave her a nice back massage. Her helmet covered her ears so everything was muffled, but the goggles kept her eyes clear and dry.

When she reached Xing, night was just due to fall upon the horizon, and she decided to camp for the night. She flew over a dense, forest area and landed just at the bank of a large lake. She killed the engine and breathed in the green air. "Wonderful." She breathed as she got out of the cockpit and stood on the lowerwing, looking over her surroundings. The sun was just about to set so there were low beams of yellow falling around her through the canopy. She went to the back of the plane, to a small compartment, and opened the latch to grab her large duffle bag.

She slept on the top of the upperwing of her plane instead of the cockpit, the forest air was humid and warm, so there was no reason for her to have to cuddle herself in cushions. She lay there before sleeping, smiling with her arms under her head. Soon she'd be in a new country, meeting amazingly interesting people and seeing new things. She wondered what the people of Amestris were like—whether or not they were nice or welcoming. She wondered about the food, or the animals, or whether their planes were better than her own. Being on top of her plane, her only home, she fell asleep.

When the sun rose and touched her rosy cheeks, and Birdy woke up, she awoke with a rustle in the bushes around her. Startled, she jumped up and looked around. There was some movement, Birdy caught them and reached into the pocket of her jumpsuit and pulled out a small knife that she had to flick out. Holding it at throwing position, she watched as the movement went from just in front of her to a little to her right. Swiftly, she threw the knife and it hit the tree. "Who goes there?!" Birdy yelled, "Who are you?"

"The question is, what is that?!" Came a low voice from the brush, "And why is your aim so bad?!"

"I wasn't aiming for you." Birdy bluffed. In reality, she had been given the knife by Hanriot for cases like this. But Birdy had never thrown a knife before.

"What is that metal contraption?"

"It's a plane." Birdy explained to the woods, "It flies."

"Yes, I heard it last night. We all heard it. It terrified us—we thought we were being bombed…"

"I'm sorry…" Birdy said, "I didn't realize how scary a plane could be. I grew up around them, you understand…"

"Sure." The tree said, "Sure…"

"Are you going to come out now?" Birdy asked.

She jumped out of her skin as the knife she had throw swiftly flew into the gut of her bag, perfectly in the middle. And she heard the voice say, "Only if you put that away…"

Birdy nodded hesitantly as she took the knife and clipped it shut before tossing it into the cockpit. She waited while an old man emerged from the brush. He smiled at her, "You're an outsider. You have quite the tan. And your flaming hair…"

"The sun. I'm actually naturally fair…" Birdy flushed, "But I'm from the sea. I come from a country called Costero. We border you…"

"Yes, but you're very far away." The old man, "No one from these parts have ever seen someone from there before…How long are you here for? What is your business?"

"I was here only for the night. Just passing through…" Birdy explained, "I'm going to Amestris."

"Where the alchemists live." The old man said softly.

"Alchemists?" Birdy asked, "What are those?"

"They call themselves scientists, I suppose. The military has a whole arsenal of them. They're very well known…"

"Oh." Birdy said absently as she looked her plane over, "Do you know if Amestris has planes?"

"Never seen them." The man said, "But then again, I've never seen an alchemist either." He paused and walked out of the brush and into the clearing. She smiled at her and said, "Why don't you come back to the City for lunch? Before you leave."

Birdy smiled warmly at him and reached into her never-ending pocket to pull out a watch on a chain, glancing at it, "Sorry, but I'm behind in my times. I want to make Amestris by tomorrow morning, you see."

The old man nodded in understanding before glancing at the clearing, "You're flying out of here again?"

"Sure am." Birdy smiled, "I'll have breakfast when I'm cruising above Xing. Send my blessings to your town, tell them that the hum of a plane is not to be feared."

"Yes." The old man said before slinking back into the forest, but before he left completely, Birdy heard him say, "But I shall warn you. Amestris is a hard country. Someone of your…disposition might not thrive well there."

Birdy's bright disposition faltered slightly as the rustle of the greens started to fade away, and she was alone in the forest once again. She felt an eerie feeling about her, but she brushed it off as she opened the compartment and tossed in the duffle bag. She climbed through the wings of her plane and settled herself in her seat before pulling her helmet one and putting the goggles over her eyes. Thinking a moment about the old man, she reached into the cockpit and started the plane. She was in the air in a matter of moments.

The rest of Xing passed without much delay, but she realized as she saw the brink of desert that if she wanted to make Amestris before sunrise, she'd have to fly through the night. She glanced around herself while stuffing her face with a sandwich; the sky was still blue. She glanced at the compass on her dash and taking one more bite, she continued over the desert.

When night fell, Birdy realized how different a landlocked country was to the ocean. She was shivering in her seat, her teeth were chattering, and it didn't help that the sand from the winds around the desert were freezing to the glass of her goggles. Birdy absently reached up and tried to rub them away, but she was losing sight. Sighing, she looked for a place to land, a hard sturdy place, but there wasn't. The sand could not be landed upon. Annoyed, Birdy pulled her goggles away from her eyes and flew on.

The sun finally rose over the Amestrian border as Birdy reached over to the side of her plane and rubbed the sleeve of her jumpsuit over the dew of the wing. Water gathered and she reached up to clean the sand away from the glass of her goggles. Tired and slightly flustered, she glanced down at the barren land below her. In her homeland, the land looked like a mesh of bright blue and rich green, a few bits of yellow where there was sand. In Xing, it was a motif of green and yellow, depending on where she was. But in Amestris, it was almost all yellow and a few patches of green, but if so green, very dim and dead. Like the country itself, she figured. She kept flying despite reaching the land and aimed for Central City.

Taking out her map, the map that she had drawn herself in hopes of being somewhat geographically correct, and she glanced at it. It was pinned so that it wouldn't flutter about in her flying, and the sound was deafening so she had to concentrate. Central City was due just a little west, about two hours was her estimation. She would be in Central, addressing herself to Maes Hughes and the rest of the military, and giving him her letter of introduction from Macchi by 10 that morning.

She noticed how many people looked up, startled, by her plane. Over Xing she could not see them, trees and brush and green had shielded the people from her sight, though the spooky old man that had given her his advice had told her that they were very much terrified of the noise her bird had made. Seeing the confused faces of the Amestrian people gave her a new insight. She grew up with the hum of the plane; the gurgling of the engine was her lullaby. But to the Amestrian people, the hum of the drum of the plane was threatening. A few people gave her angry looks, confused even further, not only by the contraption itself, but also by the military crest that wasn't their own. They thought of the worst: Invasion.

When, finally, she passed over Leor, then East City, she saw the concrete planes of Central City and smiled to herself. People described Central City as being all gray and hard, ninty-degrees and stern and cold and somewhat dead. But there it was, in all its glory and militaristic appeal. She glanced around and tried to find the biggest and most important building of the city. But the Central Command building gave itself away; it was the largest one, but it also had the large green flag of Amestris on the front. "This must be it." Birdy said to herself as she swooped in a large U-Turn around the building. Soldiers, particularly ones that were on guard duty, stopped what they were doing and watched the plane in horror and surprise. A few radios went off, "THERE IS AN UNIDENTIFIED FLYING OBJECT OVER LEOR." Said one, and another, "OBJECT SIGHTED OVER CENTRAL." But of course, Birdy heard none of these.

Birdy found the long, wide walkway to the Central Command building and thought that if anything, that would make the best runway. She swerved the plane around and made a flight from far off and aimed. People who were in the walkway dropped everything and started running away. Birdy stuck her arm out of the plane and motioned that she was about to land, she sent it off in sign language. A few people could read it, but mostly they figured out her intention by the dip of her plane.

"General!" Screamed one of the officers, "General!"

"I know!" Mustang snapped out as he walked out onto the walkway, Hawkeye following suit. "I know, I know! Shut up and get out of the way!"

The officers did as they were told. Hawkeye had to hold down her hair and Mustang reached up to press his hat down as the plane came to a soft stop in the middle of the walkway. The air around was still strong, but she wasn't turning it off. She was busy checking a few of her gages absently. She said to herself, "I better find a mechanic…"

"What the hell…?" Came a comment behind Mustang. The General turned around to see Havoc standing behind him, confused. Havoc immediately said, "What is that?"

"I'm not sure. But don't go near it." Mustang commanded, "Grumman is off in East City. I'll take responsibility. If he's hostile, don't hesitate to shoot."

"Yes, sir." Havoc said absently as he stood by, gun in hand, waiting. Hawkeye was also armed and prepared.

Birdy smiled to herself as she unbuckled herself and climbed swiftly out of the cockpit. She grabbed on to one of the bars of the upperwing and pulled herself out before landing on the lowerwing, her boots making a bit of a thump on the metal. The officers around her reached slowly for their guns, though they didn't present them. She glanced around herself and smiled, but the people of Central City only looked suspicious.

"I am the commanding officer of this military base." Mustang's strong voice rang out among the crowd, causing Birdy to spin around to find him. She was wearing her jumpsuit and helmet with goggles, looking absolutely sexless.

Mustang watched the pilot, "What is your business here?"

Birdy jumped down from her lowerwing—a few of the soldiers tensed and held their guns tightly, and she reached up to pull her helmet and goggles off. Her red tresses caught the sun and shone, but they were restrained by a very messy bun. She smiled peacefully at Mustang and with her helmet on her hip, reached forward and held out her hand to the General, "I'm Birdy Avro of the country of Costero; the Southern Beach specifically. How do you do?"

"I'm…fine…" Mustang said wearily, taking her hand and shaking it slowly. His sharp eyes trailed over her body, confused.

"Fantastic! Your name, sir?"

"General Roy Mustang." He said, taking his hand away and looking at it.

Birdy nodded and reach in to her jumpsuit pocket and pulled out a crumpled envelope. She said seriously, "If you're the commanding officer, then you'll be able to help me. Here is a letter of introduction from General Stan Macchi on my behalf. He is my commanding officer."

"Oh." Roy said, somewhat surprised, "You mean you were given orders to be here? You're in the military? How old are you?"

"I'm 16, sir." Birdy said, and a few of the soldiers almost giggled. Almost, but they noticed Hawkeye.

"Damn." Mustang breathed before looking at the letter. In bold all upper-case letters and with the Costeroian crest at the bottom, it wrote:

_A LETTER OF INTRODUCTION TO LIEUTENANT COLONAL MAES HUGHES _

_FROM GENERAL STAN MACCHI_

"Damn." Breathed Mustang again with a deep frown before holding the envelope to Hawkeye. Her face was even graver as she glanced around herself. A few of the other soldiers could see the letter over her shoulder and they slowly lowered their guns. Havoc, particularly, winced.

Birdy was still smiling at them all, "So..I hope your military doesn't mind hosting me…"

"Well…Why don't we have a chat in my office?"

"I'm sorry, General Mustang." Birdy said firmly, "But I must see Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes first. Macchi instructed me to seek him out as my priority."

"That's just it." Mustang said, "You're about five years too late. Hughes is dead."

* * *

Why yes. Another post-anime FMA Edward/OC fanfic. I really need to stop writing these...Thanks for reading! x


	2. Chapter Two

He liked the plains best in the morning, when the beiges made the blue in the sky stand out strong, as strong as it could in the morning. The wind made the entire scenery sway to the right, calming him, but only for a moment. In the middle of summer, he only had to wear a tank top and some shorts and he was bare foot—literally, one foot was bare, and the other was metal. Smiling tensely, he took a sip of his coffee. Straight, no milk or sugar.

He had been working on some repairs for Winry and her grandmother around the house. Both of them had to go to the nearby shopping center for some groceries and tools; Edward was left alone with Den for the morning. Listening to Wintry and Pinako argue over small details in automail was amusing some mornings, but for this morning, he was happy for the silence.

Blissful silence was, however, broken by the phone in the kitchen ringing. Edward took a quick sip of his coffee before turning around and heading inside to answer it. Most likely it was one of Winry's costumers for a check up. Since she had come back from Rush Valley, she had become prominent in her own right, almost as famous as Edward Elric himself. Before picking up the receiver, he made sure to have a notebook ready.

"Rockbell Automail." Edward greeted gruffly while taking another sip slowly, listening. He was relaxed, as relaxed as he'd ever be.

"Fullmetal." Mustang's voice rang through.

Edward slowly put his cup of coffee on the kitchen counter tensely and said sternly, "I've retired, Mustang."

"Don't get cocky." Mustang drawled, "I didn't call for you. I called for Winry."

Edward's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What do you want with Winry?"

"It's not what I want." Mustang said, annoyed, "It's what our new guest wants. But I can't tell you any more. You're not a member of the military, remember?"

"I'm an honorary alumni of the military." Edward pointed out as he stood straight and glanced at the mirror. For years previous, he always had bags under his eyes and his hair had always been ruffled and dull in its blond color. Nowadays, he looked more like a corpse. His eyes had seemed to become larger in the years, but only because his eye sockets had receded back into his brain. He had stubble across his chin, because he only shaved when he was pestered by Winry enough. His hair was dirty, greasy even, and it didn't flow like it used to—he had shaved it all off a year ago and it was growing back again, down to his upper shoulders, tied in a pony tail. "Plus, Winry is all I have left. I'd like to know why the military is dragging her to Central."

There was a sigh on the other line and Edward could hear that Mustang put the phone down to muffle it against his chest, and he said something to someone, most likely to ask if it was worth telling Edward. Edward first suspected that he was talking to Hawkeye, but when the other voice spoke, though muffled, it was cheery and high-pitched, and he heard a soft 'Yeah, yeah!' from it. Confused, Edward waited.

"I have a guest of the military here." Mustang said when he got back on the line, "They need a mechanic that's skilled with intricate machinery. You know, not someone who knows how to built tanks; someone who knows how to build people."

"…Why? Did something happen to their…it's not a tank, right? Is it a car? Why don't they just get a car mechanic?" Edward asked while he watched Winry herself and her grandmother walk down the small path. They were laughing cheerily and Pinako must have made an inappropriate joke because Winry blushed. The old hag took a drag of her cigarette and glanced into the house, making eye contact with Edward. He looked down quickly.

"It's not like that." Mustang said, "It's…a little different."

Edward watched as the two of them walked through the door. Winry gave him a worried look. Edward cursed himself for being so easy to read, but when he thought about it, Winry knew all of his faces. "What's wrong, Ed?" God, he had heard that so many times.

Edward shook his head to dismiss her, so she went to the kitchen after being shuffled by Pinako. Through the phone, Edward seethed, "Find someone else. I'm not risking anyone else's."

"Her life isn't in risk." Mustang sounded tired, "It's just a job for her."

"Do you not remember how deeply she got dragged into the military last time?!" Edward said harshly, "I'm not putting her through that again!"

"Then come along." Mustang said, "Come along and be Winry's guard dog like always. Just get her here by tomorrow." And there was a click. Annoyed, Edward slammed the phone onto the receiver and went to the kitchen.

"Who was that?" Winry asked, "It sounded really serious…"

"You're being summoned to Central." Edward said blankly as he went to the cabinet.

"What?" Winry said, as shocked as Edward, "But why?! Is it because of my parents? Of something I did? Is it about Alphonse?"

"No." Edward said while pouring himself some more coffee; tense, "For your mechanics. You're needed for a job."

"Oh wow." Winry breathed, her whole façade changing, "Someone called from Central? Did they know someone in Rush Valley? What was their name?"

"Roy Mustang." Edward said while leaving the kitchen, intending to go pack. But he stopped when he felt someone grab him by the upper arm gently and pull him back.

Edward turned around, already knowing who it was, and when he came face to face with Winry, he watched her face soften and she asked, "Are you sure you're okay going back…? Especially after—"

"I'm not affected by it anymore, Winry." Edward said sternly, but it was a lie. He'd always be affected by it.

"It's only been a year." Winry said gently, "You don't have to come. Stay here and watch after Pinako. She needs help around the house."

"I can't let you go alone." Edward said softly, "Not to Central."

"Sure." Winry said softly, "Sure. Let's go pack…" She took him by the hand and led him upstairs silently. Edward followed numbly, but let her go when they turned to their respective rooms.

Once alone, Edward's first instinct was to smash the mirror of the dresser in his room. Unfortunately, he had done that plenty of times before, and every single time he'd get a scolding from Pinako, no matter how distraught he was. So instead he went to the window of his room that overlooked the green valleys of his hometown and sighed. That morning he had been so calm…now Mustang had to go and ruin everything.

There was a knock and Winry came in. Immediately she smiled to him before going over to pack his suitcase for him. She often did that. Edward would spend days, even weeks, just thinking and wondering and rewriting his past in his mind that if anything was to get done in the house, Winry had to do it. "It'll be nice to see Central again." Winry mused out loud while packing to alleviate the tension; "I'll get some new parts for automail. Maybe try that new fancy polish on your leg. Would you like that?"

Edward glanced at Winry deftly before looking out the window again. Winry thought better of small talk, and simply said, "We'll get the 3 o'clock train…So we travel through the night. I'll meet you downstairs."

When they made it to the train, Edward all but ignored Winry as she offered him some trail mix. Defeated, Winry fell asleep, leaving Edward awake and aware to watch her.

When he finally fell asleep, it wasn't for long. Flashes of white kept jumping up at him, and what looked like lightening, and rain and water and mud and everything dirty and overwhelming and dead. It made his head hurt, but most of all, it made his heart hurt.

"Edward." Came a whisper that tore him away from himself. "Edward, we're here…How'd you sleep?"

Edward gave Winry a look before glancing out of the train window. So many times he had walked through the Central Train station, had greeted Hughes, Armstrong, Winry, even a few times Alphonse, and every time he had somewhat smiled at them. Awkwardly, of course, or in an annoyed sense. But this time when he dismounted and saw Armstrong, he merely raised his eyebrows and started walking down the corridor. Armstong gave Winry a worried look, but they both followed.

A few of the Central citizen's recognized Edward. Some smiled warmly, others gave him sad looks, and a few gave him annoyed looks. But he ignored them all. When he got to the military building where Mustang resided, a General now, all the personal smiled to him, and their treatment was more severe than that of citizens. He stopped outside Mustang's door.

"Aren't you going in?" Winry asked. She shifted the weight of her mechanic toolbox from one hip to the other awkwardly.

"This is your job." Edward reminded her, "You should announce yourself first."

Winry smiled at him as best she could before Armstrong opened the door for her and let her in. Edward followed silently.

Mustang looked up from where he was talking to his guest and smiled at Winry, "You guys made good time."

"We took the evening train." Winry explained, "So who is this customer that needs my mechanics?" She finished cheeringly, glancing around the large office.

"Ah, yes." Mustang said as he got up from where he was sitting. He went around his desk and stood before Winry, before gesturing to the window. Winry and Edward hadn't noticed her when they first came in, but she turned around and smiled. "Winry, this is Birdy. She's a fighter pilot. She's not from around here…"

"Pilot?" Winry asked, confused. But she didn't have time to ask anything else.

Birdy had already closed the space between the two and started shaking Winry's hand. She wasn't wearing her jumpsuit any more, but instead a pair of shorts and an old flannel shirt that was obviously too big for her. Her red hair was braided and her tan stood out against Winry's milky skin, "Pleasure!" Birdy chirped.

"Hello…" Winry said, confused, "What are you a pilot of?"

"A plane." Birdy explained dutifully, "But it's my understanding that you guys don't really have those…" Birdy then turned to Edward and held out her hand to him as well, "Are you her assistant? Lovely to meet you!"

Edward slowly raised his hand to her and shook it. She had callouses all up to her wrist, and a few Band-Aids that she used when her fingers got burned by the equipment. But overall, they were small and delicate. "My name's Edward, and no." He said sternly.

"You could be a pilot." Birdy mused, "You're short enough."

Mustang, Armstrong and Winry winced and were prepared for Edward's comedic outbursts, but none came. Edward only glared down at her silently. She was at least a head shorter than he was, so her jibe came unaccredited. "You're shorter."

"Of course." Birdy said, "You can expect Major Armstrong to fit in a cockpit, can you? You look small and nimble—like a pilot should be."

"I'm not small." Edward seethed.

"Winry, why don't you and Birdy go have a look at that plane of hers. I'm sure you've never seen one before." Mustang said loudly in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two shorties.

"Sure. I'm very excited to see it." Winry said with a quick smile and Birdy smiled past Edward to Winry before letting Edward's hand go. The two of them left with Armstrong to the roof, where Birdy had relanded her plane.

Edward was left in the room with Mustang and Hawkeye.

"How are you?" Mustang asked softly.

Edward didn't reply. He only stood still, glaring down Mustang as though the General was some type of homunculi.

"Good break?" Mustang asked wearily, glancing at a tense Hawkeye. Sighing, he got up from where he had sat down on the top of his desk and walked over to Edward. The blond didn't move, not even to attack Mustang, he only stood there in completely stillness while Mustang came to lay both his hands on the boy's shoulders. Edward was still haggard, even if he got sleep on the train, and he had changed out of his tank top and shorts to be wearing sensible slacks and a white button-up shirt, pulled unceremoniously to his elbows. The veins in his arms and neck were protruding out in his breathing, and poor Edward's hair had split ends. Mustang said gently, "Did you want to visit his—"

"No." Edward tensed.

"Then come get a drink with me." Mustang offered, "Just one."

Stiffly, Mustang shuffled Edward out of his office with an arm around the boy's shoulders and glanced back at Hawkeye, mentally telling her to hold down the fort.

Meanwhile, on the roof, Birdy was pulling the tarp off her plane. Winry breathed. "Oh my goodness…"

"She's a beauty, I know." Birdy said proudly, "Her name is Canary. She was my father's plane."

"You fly in this?" Winry asked, excited, "In the air?!"

Birdy laughed, her red hair bouncing in her amusement, her freckles wrinkling on her nose, "How else are you supposed to fly it?!"

Winry gave her a good-natured smiled before approaching the plane slowly and looking at the paint, "So what do you need me to do?"

"Go into the engine, if you will." Birdy explained, "There's a clicking noise that my mechanic back home told me about, but while flying I heard a couple of other noises. They didn't worry me too much. But my altitude dropped a little bit over Xing. I need you to see if everything's all right. I asked Mustang for the smartest mechanic he knew, and he told me to get you."

"I should be able to learn it." Winry confirmed while she put her toolkit on the ground and started to put on her coat, "It'll take me a few hours to get it right, though."

"That's no problem." Birdy said, waving away Winry's worries, "I'm in Central for a little while." She glanced over the roof and said absently, "Hey, look, Mustang and the blondie…"

"Edward?" Winry said with alarm, "With Mustang? Where are they going?"

Birdy glanced down again while she rolled her flannel sleeves up, "North, near town. Do you know him?"

"I've known him since he was little." Winry said, "I take care of his automail leg."

"He seemed tense." Birdy said, "Not a traveller, huh?"

Winry could have, would have, most likely should have, burst into laughter at the absurdity of Edward not liking to travel, but she thought better of it. Instead she gave the pilot a weary look before looking down at her tool kit, tying her hair in her bandana, "Edward's not well."

"The flu?"

"No." Winry said, "He's sad."

Birdy pulled her own locks up to her messy bun while watching how stiff Edward walked. "What a poor bloke…"

Winry nodded while she opened the engine and looked inside. At seeing what she was working with, however, Edward was forgotten. "My god!" She squealed, "It's so tidy in here!"

"Of course!" Birdy said while walking away from the ledge, "Hanriot is the cleanest mechanic I know. He's very particular in his work. You need one of those."

"It's gorgeous…" Winry breathed while she got her screwdriver, "I can't wait to take it apart!"

Birdy stared down at the excited mechanic and once Winry had emerged herself—literally—into her plane, she jumped on top of the lower wing with a small can of black paint, intending to touch up the paint job. Before she did, however, she glanced over her shoulder to see the two men walking down the street and disappear among the tall, stone buildings that Birdy had never seen before. "Everything is so...rock-hard and cold…what a peculiar country…"

* * *

*ducks*


	3. Chapter Three

Edward was sitting with Mustang at the bar, a scotch in his hand, as he stared forward, slowly turning his wrist so that the liquid in the glass would sway. Mustang was watching him keenly through the mirror that the bar provided behind the counter, "You shouldn't have come. Winry would have been safe."

God, he thought, they both looked so old.

"The last time I let someone come to Central without me, it didn't end well." Edward explained, "I'll come to protect Winry, even if it hurts."

Mustang nodded grimly, but he took another sip and finished the glass. He motioned to the bartender for another.

"I wish I could go back in time." Edward whispered. "If only just for a day…"

"And do what?" Mustang asked, "And say what?"

"I don't know. Just to…say hello…" Bags under his eyes that looked like bruises, ruffled hair as though wind had been through it, a chin forever shivering.

They sat in silence for a little while, until Edward also asked for another. It was strange for Mustang to be sitting in the same stool he always sat at when he would drink with a depressed Hughes, and Edward seemed to have taken his place in being Mustang's right-hand man. But in saying that, Hughes believed he had something to live for. Edward didn't.

"Oh, yeah." Mustang said drably as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the letter of introduction from Macchi to Hughes, "Here's Birdy's introductory letter." It had already been opened.

"I remember when Armstrong sent one with me to Briggs." Edward said as he opened he letter, "She didn't even read it…"

"That's General Armstrong for you." Mustang said, "At least she was alive when she got the letter."

Edward opened the letter and pulled out not white paper, but a clipping from an encyclopedia, and he read as follows:

_Dear Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes, _(scribbled at the top in pen)

_The _Serinus canaria_ is a tropical bird found near the ocean that often flutters towards people. Often found at the upmost top of the trees in its natural habitat, however, since the creation of neighboring countries, it has diminished in numbers, and there is only one genus remaining. Precious in its ascetics and ability to maneuver in flight, it is often captured for domestic use._

"It's encoded…" Edward mused, buzzed.

"Not really. Just metaphorical. _Serinus canaria_is a breed of canary. Birdy's plane is called the Canary or something…"

"That was if it fell into the wrong hands…there isn't even a signature to trace it back to Macchi…"

"Macchi seemed to be saving his own ass and willing to send a young girl on a deadly mission." Mustang commented while he took a swig of his drink. It still went down like fire.

"Scum…" Edward breathed as he reread the definition.

"That girl." Mustang commented blandly while sipping, "I hear she lost her whole family during the Coast War."

"She's how old?"

"16."

"Damn." Edward whispered while taking another sip, nodding, "Damn."

Mustang nodded in agreement and said, "She's like a bird herself. Always flitting, very hard to keep hold of. I can imagine how difficult she must have been to entertain when she was a child."

"What are you saying?" Edward simpered.

"I'm saying that the bird keeps flying even when it's lost everything."

"That dumb girl is flying away from her problems. Either that, or Macchi has convinced her to." Edward snapped, "Something about the Coast is driving her here. You're intending on protecting her."

Mustang shrugged, "Ed, that's what I do."

Edward asked for another drink.

Meanwhile, another conversation, lighter than the former, was happening on the roof of the Command Building. Birdy was standing by her plane, looking at the paint job, while Winry still puttered inside it.

"So what's the ocean like?" Winry asked from inside while she tightened the bolt, "Is it warm?"

"Certainly." Birdy said absently while she approached the plane and went to get on the lower wing. "It's always warm, and sunny, and the water is so refreshing when it bursts forth from a wave."

"How nice." Winry breathed, "I've never seen it."

"I know." Birdy said, "I can tell by your skin. Do you get sun much?"

"Not when I'm inside machines all day." Laughed Winry, "Not when I don't get to be up in the sky like you."

Birdy took out her paintbrush and started to retouch the family Canary silently. Winry was making quite the ruckus underneath, but that was typical of a mechanic. Birdy's father always said that you knew your mechanic was actually doing something when they made heaps of noise. She smiled at the memory. The very long memory, of him all but giving her an oral handbook of how she should take care of the plane in the 'unlikely' event of his death. She paid particular attention to the Canary's eye.

Birdy's skin, unlike Winry's, was tan and bespeckled so much that at a distance, most would assume that her beauty marks were blemishes, or that she had smallpox or some other illness. But they were freckles and sun spots, that actually complimented her more than abashed her appearance. She looked as bespeckled as sand when one decides to take a closer look.

"Birdy…" Winry whispered from underneath, "I don't know what this is."

"If it's large and round and red, it's an invention of Hanriot. It regulates the hot hair of the engine so I don't have to ever slow down."

Winry breathed, impressed, and Birdy smiled.

That night, in the setting Central sun that cast a golden glow over the harsh buildings, the plane being completely cleaned and tended to by Winry, they stood at the door of the Commanding Building while a very drunk Edward, and a slightly less drunk Mustang, walked down the road. Winry was giving them a disapproving glare under the shine of the early lamplight.

"Well." Birdy whispered to her new friend, "I reckon the mood of today changed quite suddenly…"

"Mustang is supposed to take care of him." Winry hissed, "Not get him drunk."

"My father always said that sometimes, alcohol made the blood of the wound clot faster." Birdy pointed out, "Maybe whatever Edward's wound is still open?"

"Irrelevant." Winry continued, "He needs to take care of himself. He'll end up dead like—"

But Edward had gotten too close for Winry to finish that sentence. Birdy looked the most confused as Edward slumped passed her, not even noticing her existence. He walked right up to Winry and gave her a pitiful grimace while she reached out and took him by the shoulders.

Mustang spoke to Birdy, "How's the plane?"

"Oiled and clean!" Birdy said in feigned happiness, perched to attention, "Thank you for commissioning Miss Winry for me, General. She's been very helpful."

"Well." Mustang said as he swayed, "What a surprise. Something in this lot being useful…"

"I'm useful!" Edward snapped as he turned from Winry. The blond, female, looked extremely nervous and Birdy could see it, her nails dug into Edward's shirt as he ripped away from her. Edward's face flared up at Mustang, "I'm your most useful—"

"Were." Mustang pointed out, the alcohol finally hitting his nerves and he stumbled and smiled stupidly, "Were useful. You were useful. Were."

"Don't you dare!" Edward snapped.

"You were useful." Mustang repeated, "Were. About a year ago. And then you weren't not useful." He chuckled in his stance and held up a hand to Birdy, who was prepared to help stable him.

"I'll always be useful." Edward seethed, "I'm not useful without him and that's not my fault. It's your fault!"

Birdy glanced at Winry, who looked all but scared. Confused and a little taken aback by their bluntness, she watched as Mustang shook his head vigorously and stumbled, "Were." He said again.

"Why you-!" Edward screamed before launching himself as Mustang. Birdy jumped away, having been near the middle, and she went to Winry to pull the blond back away from danger. Instinctively, she reached in to her pocket to take hold of her knife. The older alchemist snapped his fingers automatically, and a stream of flame gushed out and hit Edward right in the shoulder, lighting his jacket on fire.

"ED!" Winry screamed as she ran forth to stop the blond, but she was pushed away violently by Edward as he took his stance, and again pulled away by Birdy. Edward spread his legs apart, glared at Mustang with molten amber, and violently clapped his hands, causing the familiar ting to resonate through the air.

But nothing happened.

There was silence, as Mustang's flame burned through Edward's jacket and hair and fizzled out once it hit the part of his jacket that was fireproof, and Edward stood in his useless alchemic stance, staring forth, looking absolutely dismayed. Mustang looked just as stunned and immobile, his hand outstretched awkwardly in snap pose. Edward fell to his knees with his hands still pressed together and stared at his barren palms.

"Was…" Birdy asked, confused, "Was something supposed to happen…?"

"No." Edward answered, sober, "No. Nothing was supposed to happen…"

"Ed…" Winry whispered, reaching down to pull him up. Edward complied numbly, "Lets get you to bed. Have you had dinner?"

"Of course not." Edward countered, though his voice was so tired that Birdy would assume he spoke it in his dreams. "Of course not."

"Goodnight." Winry said woefully to her new friend, and she walked Edward back inside. Birdy swallowed awkwardly as she watched him. Edward had the burden of a thousand worlds upon his shoulders, and Winry had the burden of just one Edward. And they were equivalent in mass, but inexchangable.

Mustang stood still, watching the two blonds before turning to the redhead. Birdy had her hair in her messy bun still, but her bright green eyes flitted over him curiously, and she said, "I have oil on my jumpsuit. If your little string of light had hit me, I would have been dead."

"I can aim." Mustang mentioned, lowering his arm.

"I'll need to call Macchi, if you don't mind me finding a phone." Birdy continued, "I want to let him know I got here safely…And discuss a possible alliance between your country and mine."

"So that's why you're here." Mustang commented, "To see if we're a suitable ally. I thought it odd you would fly over countries for Winry's handiwork."

"Yes, sir." Birdy said, confused in his surprise, "Though we can talk more about it…later." She eyed his drunken stance.

"Well you get serious fast." Mustang noted as he eyed her, "It's much like Hawkeye. She's a very serious person as well. Would she had made a good pilot?"

"I would assume so." Birdy said kindly.

"You're 16." Mustang pointed out, "Why the hell would a military that just finished a war send a 16-year-old orphan on an international negotiations mission?"

"I don't know." Birdy said with a snip, "Why would a General of a military light a civilian on fire?"

"Well that's easy." Mustang said just as coolly, "He started it."

* * *

Just expanding on everyone's situation and showing you the more professional side of Birdy. Thanks for reading!


End file.
